I Never Saw Him Again
by Britney628
Summary: Movie: Anastasia. Anya made her decision, this time it was the wrong one, and she and Dimitri went their separate ways. Turns out the longer route has more bumps. Some ideas of things that might happen and changes in their lives while they are apart.
1. Introduction

**This is an intro only necessary because chapters may be rearranged, so I felt I should make it a separate article. I need to set a few things straight about this story ahead of time.**

**This story is a string of one-shots that are all ideas only related to each other by the fact that they are all based on if Anya and Dimitri chose the hard route and did not end up sharing a kiss and a life together starting on a boat ride getaway under the stars of Paris. In other words: Anya chose royalty and Dimitri chose a ticket back to St. Petersburg. Obviously, they are all "what if"s. None of them are what I think would exactly happen; They are randomly developed ideas I decided to share against the odds you'll protest me for corrupting the happy ending; some of them are what I call dramatics and depressants, which I intend for you to find more interesting than disgraceful. While I agree the ending to Anastasia was perfect, I read a few one-shots relating to this kind of concept, found one a completely heart-breaking outrage, but then grew to find idea rather interesting (once I imagined that somehow things would turn around and Anya and Dimitri would be sharing a very belated kiss and two gold rings). I decided to try writing some stories about Anya and Dimitri's lonesome situation--if the ending had been re-written, destroying the fairytale hopes of children round the world with animated reality--myself.**

**I hate the idea of Anya and Dimitri never ending up together, it's just not possible in a wonderful world where everything's right (the realms of fictitious animation, or heaven), so while I'm writing these I don't imagine their separated fate is set in stone. I always think of these as the short versions, not including the ending. Somehow, each one must result in Anastasia and her scoundrel being reunited in the future, a dream, or somehow fate takes a twist and the happy ending rises again-whether it's stated in the story or not.**

**With no longer hesitation, please enjoy…**


	2. In The End It Never Is

Well, this was the last place. Dimitri had been all over St. Petersburg and still, no job that fit him. As he traveled around the city, which he knew like the back of his hand, he had managed to move further and further away from the rundown little apartment he considered his best bet. Finally he was about twenty-three blocks from his starting point and at the last place he was willing to consider: a steel factory.

Deciding to make this quick and easy, Dimitri went around back. As a rather obtuse worker slipped out, Dimitri seized the opportunity to sneak in and get a first look of his own. Inside, he strolled around. Yep, this was his destiny-sad but true. As far as it was from his goal place for a home, at least temporarily-permanently by the looks of how well this job paid-it was the best job option he'd seen today. Wow things were looking grim, and they were only going to get worse.

As Dimitri made his way toward the front of the building, still taking in the view of the place, he spotted something. A trademark color his eyes had been trained to label as solely one thing: _her_. It was Anya-he knew it! There she was, standing right outside the building. In half a second his heart sped up and the next thing he knew he was charging in complete shock for the door. She was beautiful, with her long hair flowing, being pulled and tugged at by the breeze. He was right behind her, ready to speak. She turned around. She was not Anya.

"Can I help you?" Dimitri was stunned. The woman standing in front, who it turned out looked hardly anything like Anya from the front, was looking at Dimitri strangely. He failed to realize for a second but he had a rather odd look on his face himself. He stood there, jaw slack, trying to comprehend that he had just got himself worked up in less than ten seconds to be completely let down on the spot. Dang reality hit fast.

"Are you looking for a job?"

Dimitri continued to just stand there. His luck had officially run out. He pulled his mouth together. "No." He said finally. "No, I was just looking." The girl stared at him oddly as he turned to leave.

Why hadn't he seen that coming? The pauper's clothes should have been a dead give away. She had the hair. What she lacked was the prefect smile, the hypnotizing blue ice eyes, lined with the long, impossibly dark lashes, the fire, the amazing spirit, and he was sure by the soft push-over school girl look she gave off, the ability to put him in his place. He was also hoping the tiny gold band on the look-a-like's ring finger was a difference between this girl and Anya-Anastasia. Even now, her hair was starting to take on a more orange-like sheen.

Right when Dimitri reached the corner, he started weighing his options. _Come on. It's this or your stuck manufacturing cigars for the rest of your pathetic life. _Suddenly he developed a slightly stronger liking for the smell of tobacco. Not quite strong enough. After a minute Dimitri came to a halt. _How_ _bad_ _could_ _it_ _be?_ She only really looked like Anastasia from the back. He would only be reminded of her…_every waking second_. Dimitri decided to take the chance that would pass; he needed the money after all. He turned back and headed the other way.

It was almost eerie how much resemblance there was. The height, the frame, the lush flowing waves of red-which he now realized _did_ portray an indistinguishable and uncanny resemblance. There were only a few differences that gave it away, and he, above all people, would be the first able to point them out. Thankfully she turned around.

"Yea. I'm looking for a job."

**I may or may not write a sort of sequel, or part two, this in another chapter. I had little idea for a continuation; I think it's best left as is. If a related idea ever develops, I'll know, and so will you. **

**Reviews are appreciated. Thank you again to all my readers and reviewers on my first submitted piece of literature, "Moving On?".**


	3. No One's Waiting

Tuesday. Beautiful and bright as ever. Nothing seemed to compare to the illumination caused from the scene of winding pavement, perfectly blue sky, and flowers lining the streets of Paris in the landscape of every French home. Despite the entrancing glow of it all, something told Anastasia she should have rethought her outfit choice. The intrinsic blue dress and the roses that were a favorite in all of Paris made an evoking combination.

Anastasia turned the corner, quick to blank out the reoccurring thoughts. Five more feet, across the street, up the front step, and there she was.

"Anastasia! Oh! Pooka! Aren't you two just an adorable pair, as always." _As always_, Anastasia thought. And from what it looked like, that's how it would stay.

"What a lovely dress!" Adele gasped when she looked back up. _Definitely should have rethought the dress._

"Thank you."

"Oh, can you grab the paper? It has the casualties."

"Of course."

The Second World War had taken a toll on the families of France. Men were being shipped off to war, tearing them apart from their loved ones. It _almost_ made Anastasia thankful she didn't have a companion; her view of the separation was heart-breaking. And though one right after another, her friends had been left alone to care for their homes, she felt like she was the truly lonely one. There was no one for her to say goodbye to.

Adele's husband had been called to war a few months ago. At first, she had taken it horribly; she was getting on better now, though, like all the secluded women, still anxious and fragile.

Once both inside, they settled on the sofa and turned to the desired and dreaded section; the casualties of war. They immediately scanned the names in silence. The name never popped up.

"Oh, good. I get so scared sometimes when I don't hear from him." Anastasia was still focused on the list.

"He isn't listed; I read the whole thing." But Anastasia didn't look up. A troubling look glazed her angelic face. She was starring at one precise spot.

"Anastasia, what is it?"

No, he wasn't on the list. Adele was safe. But one other name, one Anastasia hadn't even thought to look for. One she had never associated with the list. One she had repeatedly told herself _not_ to think about and had almost broke the habit of. _Almost_. _One_ was reflecting in her eyes at this very moment.

_Dimitri. Age 33. _

…

**There will be a sequel to this. I realize thirteen years is a long time to be stuck on someone. But this is Anya and Dimitri we're taking about, those feelings just don't dissolve. Anyway, the idea screamed to me, so I just had to develop it. I always imagine that there are two basic ways to tell most ideas about what could happen in Anya and Dimitri's future: Anya and Dimitri are together, or the ending is tossed out, rewritten, and they are separated (temporarily). I was pondering whether or not to write a full fan fiction story about the events of WW2 affecting Anya and Dimitri's lives, this happened to come to mind, as I usually picture every possibility in the two mentioned different ways. I always found the possibilities of them being separated temporarily as extremely interesting, I would not however want the movie to end that way. I might do one from Dimitri's point of view, involving **_**his**_** situation in the war.**


	4. In the Land of Woman

**Re-edited. I'm still not entirely happy with it. I don't think it fits the movie too well; I don't like to make my stories too real-life for a children's movie, and I think the break up idea is pushing it a lot.**

…

"It's her, isn't it?"

"Come on, Irina. We've been through this." Another shirt hit the stack.

"_No_. _We haven't._ You never mention her to me. You've never even told me her name."

"Why should I?" _Yuri_ _just had to let it slip._

"You can tell _Viktor_ all about her, Yuri, who knows how many people down at that bar you've been disappearing to every night." _Escaping to, is more like it, _he thought_._ Would now be a good time to bring up he was an ex-conman?

"That's different," Dimitri stated firmly as he shut the suitcase. He had only told one person: Vik. _Somehow_ Yuri had found out. "A slip," Viktor had sworn. Well that "_slip_" had made it's way back to Irina.

"Oh _really_…?" She stretched the word with a roll of her eyes. Yep, he had wasted enough time here.

"Look, it doesn't matter. I'm leaving, that's final. Now you don't have to put up with me anymore." Dimitri was heading for the door.

"That's it? You're just walking out?" Women always had to overcomplicate every situation.

"That's what it looks like."

"_Fine_." _Here it comes._ "I hope you find her! I sure she deserves you!" she shouted from the doorway. He'd be willing to take that bet.

Irina acted as if _he_ was the one who had suggested they move in together. _Yea right. _It sure wasn't _his_ idea. Irina annoyed Dimitri to the point where it just wasn't worth putting up with. Especially since their arrangement had never been quite clear, or appealing, to him.

_Anya _could drive Dimitri up the wall with one breath. But every word she jabbed, every question she pushed, every move she made, could only make him want her more. _Too_ _bad; _He just couldn't win.

Dimitri made his way up the street, unsure of exactly where he was headed next. He was hoping the night would at least take him to a reasonable enough hotel, maybe to a shot of Vodka. A drink sounded pretty good right about now.

…

**Ever notice how Dimitri, the Master Player, can never win in the land of women? He only wins when he ends up with Anya. Until then…he strikes out yet again. Women are just impossible for Dimitri. That includes Anya; he just learns to tolerate **_**her**_**.**

**At first I use to find the idea of Dimitri being with another girl under any circumstances horrible. As long as it isn't final and he doesn't totally toss Anya out of his life, it doesn't bother me anymore. However, I do believe I pushed it with them living together. Even I don't like the idea or find it very possible, at least right off. I don't even think he would be willing to date right off. I wrote the first few lines and then realized there was no apparent way around it.**

**The way I imagine it, Dimitri and his "girlfriend" had started off **_**okay **_**at first, dated, Dimitri getting back in to the world and moving on. Irina was more interested in him, and he couldn't even say he had been interested. I imagine a friend might have talked him into it. Dimitri only agreed to the living arrangement after a considerable amount of time, upon deciding something like, it would be a temporarily better place to stay, the rent would be a little less, or there was a chance it might work out okay. He soon would have given up on that last theory just because he knew they weren't for each other, and then the whole 'past girl' situation would come up, only creating more problems and personally kind of torturing him. Things would have gotten more annoying for him when Irina found out there had been a big involvement of another girl that he was possibly still stuck on.**


	5. The Easy Part

**Sorry, if it's low in quality.**

…

_Morning. Great. _Reluctant to acknowledge it, Dimitri buried his face in his pillow with a groan. Another three hours would be good for him. But that was not the case. Work awaited, and Dimitri was not looking forward to it. He rolled over, now sprawled out on his back, squinting his eyes, still postponing getting on his feet. He took one look at his watch, and rolled out of bed. He knew the drill, and he wasn't fond of it.

He would trot down those old steps. Walk seven blocks. Work eight to nine long, lazy hours at the factory. Come home, get a drink, and fall right back to sleep, as usual. Life just had it's own little schedule for everyone. _His_ was a fairly predictable, fairly consistent, fairly _low_ one. Still, he managed.

When he got to the bottom of the steps and out the door, he barely registered the children amongst the other common people standing around the street, heading one way or another. Two children, up early, and trying to get some play in, before their keepers found them. One happened to notice _him_.

"Dimitri!"

"Hmm?"

Dimitri turned and registered the significant high-pitched voice as one of the little girls belonging to a family living a floor below him. He'd helped her and her brother out of a scrape once, and threw in some short advice to stay out of trouble.

"Oh. Hey, Lara."

"Where are you going?"

"Work. What else would I be doing?" That last part was said more to himself.

"Is that where your wife goes everyday?" the girl asked with a curious interest.

"Uh, no. I don't have a wife," he said briefly. He didn't like to go into those conversations, and he certainly wasn't about to with an eight-year-old.

"Why not?"

"Look, I'd love to stay and play twenty questions, but I have somewhere to be." _Work. In fifteen minutes._ With that, he turned and headed in the direction he had started.

No more had he taken three steps, she tried again. "Wait!"

Dimitri looked to the sky as he turned around.

"_Yes_, Lara?" He was getting slightly irritated now.

The little girl skidded in front of him, holding a small baggy in her hand, tied with string. "Take this."

"What is it," he asked with little interest.

"They're love stones. My grandpapa gave them to me. He said they bring love. They can help you _fall_ in love," she said, obviously very enthusiastic with her idea.

She was honestly a cute, innocent little thing. Bright. Sure of herself. Well, she was about to be disappointed.

"Thanks kid, but _trust_ _m_e, I don't need help with that." _Falling_ in love was the easy part.

Dimitri proceeded to continue his walk down the slushy, wet street, leaving the little fair-faced munchkin bemused in the light snow.


End file.
